’ ‘Fiddle,’ scoffed Miss Froxfield. He saw the flames burst from the windows, and perhaps in that maddening spectacle suffered torture equivalent to some of the crimes he had committed. She thought that women were not made for the struggle and turmoil of life— their place was the little world, the home; that their power lay not in votes but in influence over men and in making the minds of their children fine and splendid. " "And a famoush goot shignal it ish," laughed Abraham. Like a trollop in heat.
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